It's late in the day, but while my grown up girl makes gyros for dinners, I'll blog a little and enjoy the help which will be gone all too soon.
Happy Feast of Corpus Christi---the Body and Blood of Christ---when the Church celebrates the fact that Jesus gave us his body in the Holy Eucharist. As Catholics, we get to experience Jesus in a very special way every Sunday. Daily, if we choose!
I love Jesus in the Eucharist. I can remember before my conversion when my husband and I discussed John chapter 6 and the Last Supper. I was shocked when he simply explained that if Jesus himself said, "This is my body" then shouldn't we believe him? If I couldn't trust Jesus to speak clearly and truthfully, whom could I trust?
So, you know how that turned out! Here I am, firmly, happily ensconced in the Catholic Church, despite the fact that sometimes the music at Mass is amazingly awful and inappropriate. (Not badly done, mind you, just poorly written and chosen.) I can't believe that today, of all days, while celebrating Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, His gift to us was diminished by our (well, not my) singing that We are the body and blood of Christ, broken and poured out for the salvation of the world. Not that we don't have anything to do with the salvation of souls through our prayers and sacrifices, but to compare ourselves to the Blessed Sacrament is a bit much, especially today.
Enough griping....let me tell you an embarrassing story about myself...just promise you won't tell anyone else!
When I came into the Church in 1996, I was very excited for the Easter Vigil, but also a bit nervous because there was so much to remember and do. The RCIA director explained that the Candidates for Confirmation and First Communion would be the first to receive Communion. But we were sitting with our families (and mine took up most of a pew!) and sponsors, so I didn't see how we could receive first. I asked for clarification, but she insisted that we were to go first.
Fast forward to the Liturgy of the Eucharist...when it came time to go up, I was sitting in something like the 6th row, far, far from the center aisle. In fact, I might have been on the outside of the pew so I could get up if my 3 month old (who was baptized that night!) got fussy. But I dutifully got up and climbed over everyone else in the row to go up to receive Jesus for the first time. As you might imagine, I was the only one who did that! Everyone else followed the traditional method of going row by row. Talk about embarrassing!
When we met with the RCIA team later, my very kind sponsor insisted that it was my hunger for the Eucharist that made me do it, not stupidity, which was my choice. She said that several times over the next couple of weeks---and I was all, like, can't we just drop the subject? With the hindsight of 16 years, I can say, unequivocally, that maybe, just maybe, she was right.
I do have a hunger for the Eucharist, and I'm profoundly grateful for that gift at every Mass.
But I just might be a little dense, too.